


Child Rearing for Your Very Scary Boss

by Creative_Ju_Ju



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Dad mode activated, Fluff, Gen, I don't want this to be too long, Purge Trooper Cody, Well eventually, but its definitely looking like it will be, so sorry for that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:07:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28724067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creative_Ju_Ju/pseuds/Creative_Ju_Ju
Summary: In which Cody never really returns after Order 66, but he Dad-Modes his way out of the Purge troopers anyway.Inspired bymidnightmeatsubway'spost on Tumblr.
Comments: 81
Kudos: 172





	1. Assignment

Darth Vader looked at the golden-haired toddler before him. The boy had potential in the Force, certainly, but he found handing the child over to be trained as an inquisitor...unappealing. Also, the child was far too young to really do anything, especially train as an inquisitor. Likely, if he handed the child over now, the child would not live until the end of the year. Especially with such...exuberant proclivities, he thought with a moue of distaste at the bright laughter coming from the child as he happily shoved a ration bar in his mouth and somehow still managed to babble around it.  


His own child would be almost the same age…  


But he could no more disobey his Master than he could bring his wife and child back. So he did the next best thing. “Summon Purge Trooper CC-2224.”  


The requested trooper was a few systems away, and until he arrived, someone was going to have to ensure the continued existence of the boy. He handed the boy off to Aide no. 4. “Ensure the child is taken care of.”  


Purge trooper CC-2224, or Cody, as he sometimes responded to without thinking, was surprised by the summons. Lord Vader did not keep many clones with him. Cody, when he was Cody and could think about such things, figured he wouldn’t want to be reminded of the past either. But CC-2224 was a consummate professional, and was en route to meet up with Lord Vader in under an hour. CC-2224 did not wonder at the summons, but Cody did.  


It took nearly a week to arrive where Lord Vader’s fleet was stationed. CC-2224 immediately reported to Lord Vader. “CC-2224, this is-” here Lord Vader made a glance at a datapad,”-Luke. You are to ensure his physical and mental wellbeing as he is trained to become an inquisitor. Keep him well at any cost. Dismissed.”  


“Yes Sir.” CC-2224 picked up the drooling toddler,holding him like one might a yowling cat. He was somewhat confused, but orders were orders, and so he left. He checked his gauntlet, and sure enough he was listed as an adjunct commander, under future Inquisitor L, to the Fortress Inquisitorius. CC-2224 was already in a shuttle, and had been in hyperspace for all of a minute before Cody came surging to the forefront.  


“Why the hell did Lord Vader entrust you to me, hunh?” he questioned the toddler, as he all but tore his helmet off. Said toddler had somehow procured a spanner and was happily banging the front of the seat with it. Some sort of babbling fell out of his mouth, and he giggled. Cody had not ever really been around actual, nat-born children. He felt a vague unease at the thought of a life form he was responsible for being unable to care for itself. At least the 212 and the Jetti (before they were Traitors) could be somewhat responsible for themselves. Mostly.  


Cody had a sudden sinking feeling. Maybe he was supposed to fail this mission? Maybe that was why he was assigned. He wondered if the kid could even inform him of what he needed Cody to do for him. Cody looked at the curious blue eyes that were looking intently at his helmet. A bright grin split the kids tiny tiny face. “Two?” he questioned.  


Cody blinked. What? But the kid was already scrambling from his seat, somehow managing to not knock his tiny _tiny!_ little head against the console, to grab his helmet and shove that same little head into it. Cody’s helmet was approximately half the size of Luke’s everything, and Cody felt some of his life leave him. Because there was no way a child that utterly happy would do mentally well at such a place as the Fortress Inquisitorius. No way.  


He may not have known much about child rearing or development, but he could research. He could do this. He was a good soldier and good soldiers followed orders. He just needed to plan. “Luke, alright, here’s the plan. I’m going to find data about nat-born children, and you’re going to be healthy, and Lord Vader isn’t going to kill me for failure. Sound good?”  
The boy laughed and tapped Cody’s nose. “NOSS”  


“Good enough.” Cody sighed. He had herded the 212th and General Kenobi. A sunshiny child couldn't be all that much more difficult...right? He thought to himself as he casually intercepted little fingers from the life support panel. “We don’t touch that unless it’s an emergency.”  


The boy looked at the gloved hand holding his wrist, and followed the arm up to Cody’s face. “Why?”  


“Because those are the life support systems, and we want those to stay working properly.”  


The boy, Luke, seemed to contemplate this for a minute. “Why?”  


Cody looked a bit off-put. “So we don’t die.”  


The following “Why?” came much faster this time.  


“Because its my job to keep alive and well.”  


“Why?”  


“Lord Vader commanded it.”  


“Why?”  


“You would have to ask him yourself.”  


“Why?”  


“Because I am not privy to Lord Vader’s thoughts.”  


“Why?”  


“That is not a skill I possess.”  


The “Whys?” did not stop for another three hours. Cody was ready to retire.


	2. Getting Started

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did edit the warnings because, in any place, attempting to train a toddler in how to capture and kill other people is bad business, and the people doing so are not generally known to be particularly kind in their methods. That said, nothing is graphically described, but I figured I should warn you all anyway. 
> 
> If there's something you feel I missed, just let me know.
> 
> **********

He landed at the Fortress, and was shown to the room where Luke would be kept. At least it wasn’t a cell. It wasn’t much better, but he would take what he could get. The purge trooper leading them clearly did not expect the child to last long. CC-2224 put the child on the bunk in the tiny little closet of a room. The boy promptly rolled off it, nearly brained himself on the edge, and toddled around the cramped room with interest. “Sand?” he questioned, dragging his fingers through a layer of dust. “Soft sand!” he exclaimed, and tried to shove his dust coated fist into his mouth. Cody thought the random Purge trooper may have not been completely wrong. This kid was going to get himself seriously injured before training even started.

He was intercepted by CC-2224’s hand. “Don’t eat that. It’ll make you sick.” Cody, from behind the mask of CC-2224, realized a second too late that this was the wrong action.

Innocent blue eyes looked up at him. “Why?”

CC-2224 was far too professional to groan. This did not stop him from wishing he was less professional and could have a full breakdown.

Cody had begun reading parenting books, books on child psychology, and pediatric journals. And by reading, he meant devouring. He had his own training to stay on top of, as well as making sure Luke wasn’t...misplaced on purpose. Which, despite the majority of the fortress being underwater, and there being very limited places to loose a kid in a doorless hallway, seemed to happen quite a lot. And Luke always ended up in the generators or near the airlocks. Cody didn’t think the kid could swim yet. He’d be fixing that soon.

The file he had for Luke, no last name, was thin. He was listed as being just over two years of age, no planet of origin-the boy was found on a slave ship heading for Nal Hutta, and no parents, siblings, or next of kin. He tried adding some things-physical identifiers, general wellness charts, and such, but there wasn’t a safe medbay in the entire damned fortress, so that was out.

The first day there, CC-2224 had training to attend as soon as Luke had been dropped off with the Grand inquisitor. The Grand Inquisitor looked at Luke as if the child were mud that had gained sentience and inflicted itself upon him. Cody was displeased by this, but CC-2224 didn’t hesitate to leave, even as Luke made an alarmed cry as the doors closed behind him. Good Soldiers Follow Orders, after all.

When he picked Luke up from the Grand Inquisitor later that day, CC-2224 realized he was going to have to properly prioritize his orders. Because this...this was not happy or healthy or well, which went against what Lord Vader had ordered. This was bad. Luke was crying silently, his face blotchy and swollen with tears, his tiny, _tiny_ little body trembling so hard that CC-2224 had the aborted thought that the kid was having a seizure. But he couldn’t take the kid to medical because medical was sketchy as all heck here, and he was pretty sure that doing so would get Luke decommissioned. Which was Never. Going. To. Happen. Ever.

He cradled the kid (contact was important for development in young nat borns, and he hadn't yet read when they needed less touch), and stormed back in to face the Grand Inquisitor.

“Sir.” he started, without waiting to be addressed, because he was on Lord Vader’s orders and that outranked this four letter word he could not say where impressionable young ears could hear. “This” he motioned to the limply sobbing bundle in his arms. “Is unacceptable. Lord Vader wanted the child trained, not destroyed. As destruction and re-education are not the goal here, I suggest you change your instruction methods.”

The Grand Inquisitor sneered. “You, Trooper, have no say in my methods, and I will train the boy as I see fit. If you do not agree with those methods, you can be reassigned.”  
CC-2224 was not phased in the slightest. “Lord Vader assigned me to Inquisitor L.” he said in a perfectly blank tone. The “And his assignments outrank yours” went heavily implied.  
“Then you may bring the matter up with him” the Inquisitor said cooly, obviously believing that he was calling an overstepping trooper’s bluff.

Unfortunately, for him at least, CC-2224 had Lord Vader’s comm code (it was included with the mission documents) and had the comm going through before the Inquisitor had finished.

Lord Vader answered promptly, and the Inquisitor started to look a bit discomfited, but hastily composed himself as the blueish form of Lord Vader appeared. “CC-2224, this is not a scheduled update.” It was not a question, but somehow still demanded an answer.

CC-2224, somewhat gleeful to throw this terrible excuse for sentience under the proverbial land crawler, responded sharply, before said excuse could open his mouth. “I believe the Grand Inquisitor is unaccustomed to dealing with younger lifeforms, and that prolonged exposure to his methods of instruction will irreparably damage Inquisitor L and prohibit him from reaching his full potential, Sir.”

“And you Inquisitor, are you incapable of properly fostering the right mindsets and skills in one who has no preconceived notions? Or should I be questioning your commitment to the Empire?” Vader questioned, his low voice making the questions seem ominous and threatening.

The Inquisitor, showing that the only intelligence he possessed was that which he used to ensure his own survival, made a low bow. “Lord Vader, had this trooper” he sneered the word, “allowed me the chance to explain my methods, you would see that I only have the desire of shaping Inquisitor L into being a perfect tool for the Emperor. And in order to do so, some...pruning must be done.”

Lord Vader, despite the mask and only seeing the upper half of his body, appeared unimpressed with this response. “Inquisitor L has barely begun speaking in sentences. There is no ‘pruning’ to do Grand inquisitor. And while I commend the use of pain as a tool to break traitors to the Empire away from their disgusting light, even I am aware that such methods will cause developmental damage to your future agent. I suggest you reconsider your instruction. CC-2224 will keep me apprised of the child’s progress. I do expect that I will not be fielding a similar call in the future.” With that, the wavery image of the Dark Lord vanished.

The Grand Inquisitor was nearly shaking with rage, and the track lighting in the ceiling was flickering with his heavy huffing. CC-2224 saluted, turned sharply on his heel, and walked straight out the door. Mission accomplished.

CC-2224 was glad that he had made the time yesterday to grab medical supplies from the med bay, because it meant he could go straight to their room and fix this. He triple checked the lock(s) on the door, and set Luke down on the rather uncomfortable sleeping mat laid out in the bunk. The boy hadn’t made a single noise the whole time, and Cody was freaking out. He had no training for this, and had only read the basics of pediatric medicine.

Luke finally made a low hiccupping noise and shakily reached out for Cody. “No” he whimpered. “No, no, no, no”

Cody had carefully tried rotating the tiny, _tiny_ little arms and legs, and nothing seemed broken or moving in ways it shouldn’t. Cody had to assume that the Grand Inquisitor had used some sort of Force technique on the boy to hurt him so much without leaving physical traces. He couldn’t fix that. He couldn’t fix that at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is gonna be rough, just hang in there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm updating early! Mostly because the next few chapters are kind of sad and terrible, and I want to get onto some fluff and less hopelessness! 
> 
> Also a huge thank you to all of you reading, giving kudos, and commenting on this fic! I'm so glad you're enjoying it.  
> ******************

According to the studies he read, Luke should be playing with other children (which didn’t happen because there weren’t other children), and should be playing simple games like chase and hide and seek, and follow the leader (Cody’s discreet, and heavily modified, questioning on parenting advice chat boards about if dodge the blaster bolt, don’t let the assassin droid find you, and disappear into the ventilation shafts while CC-2224 went to go get dinner were all met with confused answers, but the overall theme was that these games were probably a bit too advanced, but if the child liked them, they were fine.) 

He should know colors (but the only colors on this damn planet were black, red, grey, white and blue, so he had a very limited palette to work with, but Luke did know them), and shapes, and animals (which Cody had downloaded children's books, and a galactic bestiary, as well as a weapons manuals and Luke could readily distinguish most things.) Luke seemed to be developing intellectually decently well, but Cody was concerned that the boy didn’t have enough positive interaction with his own peers, or with adults. 

Especially adults. Luke’s previous guardians had already taught him the basics of “Hello, goodbye, please, and thank you” but there was no one who reinforced this as the proper way to interact. CC-2224 was aware that Luke would probably never need to be overly proficient in politeness or diplomacy, but the child should know the basics. And Luke getting a stinging slap or a sharp rap against his tiny little head every time he said “hello” to the Grand Inquisitor or to the other troopers he recognized was not a positive reinforcement. Cody was probably the only positive interaction the boy had, and poor Luke seemed to wither before Cody’s very eyes. 

There was no “outside” time, because outside was water and N.O. CC-2224 had seen some of the shadowy creatures that lurked outside the perimeter of sonic repulsors. No child of his was going near those things, as they had far too many teeth, and that was detrimental to keeping his kid in one piece. 

According to the books, Luke also needed immunizations (that the fortress didn’t have because they were childhood vaccinations, and there were no children present), and should also be exploring outside and building his immune system through exposure to...well, dirt and everything in it. That could not happen at the Fortress because underwater habitats did not usually support decent opportunities to slather oneself in mud and shove dirt in one’s mouth (both of which were normal things for children; Cody had checked), so Cody was starting to think that he and Luke needed to leave. Sooner as opposed to later, unless someone started reading his (increasingly scathing) reports, and built a garden in this hellhole. 

Cody sometimes watched the training sessions. With the other purge troopers, he would gather up on the gantries over the training salles, and watch as his future commander...well, Luke tried. But Luke was only two, and was still at the toddling stage. Fast, precise movement with any finesse was definitely out of his skill range. And he was so disappointed every time he fell over, got knocked over, or got berated. Tears would gather in his eyes and he would pull himself up and try again. After maybe two hours or so, the boy would lay on the ground completely beaten. The first few times he would wail and ask and get angry, but as time went on, the practices got shorter, and the boy would just lay on the ground and go boneless. At this point, no matter how the instructor would try to get him to support himself on his own two legs, the boy morphed into some sort of liquid, and ended up in his original position-that of a puddle. 

Cody would go and pick him up, and Luke would allow it, usually. At first, Luke would ask questions, and practice with Cody in their closet. But after weeks of failure, Luke was silent, and stopped showing interest in anything, even eating. He whimpered more and more, and would wake up screaming in the nightcycle, completely inconsolable. There was no fix when this happened, as Luke would just wail. When asked what was wrong, the child would just sob “Hurts, Owwww” and look at Cody with those watery eyes, imploring his guardian to make the pain stop. Cody figured this was a force thing, and that there was nothing he could currently do, but hated feeling helpless. 

The bright eyes dulled, and Luke looked listless and completely lost. Cody was internally panicking behind CC-2224’s mask. Where had the “Whys?” gone? Where had the interest in animal noises and colors and shiny things gone? Why wasn’t his kid developing properly any more? The child psychology journals made it seem like Luke was being deprived of grounding developmental markers, and with only negative reinforcement, wouldn’t properly develop. This was against CC-2224’s orders. 

When Luke came back one late morning for his mid-day nap, with blood on his chin, burns on his arms, and tears in his eyes, Cody decided that this place was not good for the development of children. He had decided so before, but this was not going to make Luke a good Inquisitor. It was going to make Luke a ghost of what he should be, if Cody allowed it. And CC-2224 and Cody both agreed that they would not be allowing it. 

It was announced that evening that the Emperor himself would be coming to inspect the first of the reconditioned traitors, and everything was to be in perfect order. Including little trainee toddlers. Which, CC-2224 mused in the privacy of his own mind (privacy he would have to give up when the Emperor arrived) was a problem. Toddlers were, by nature, not orderly, and Luke’s growing lassitude meant that while he would follow everything someone told him to do, he would give up or just stop halfway through his task. Which would definitely not impress the Emperor. And could get his charge killed if the Emperor was displeased enough. 

CC-2224 did everything in his power to encourage Luke to take a more active interest in anything. He tried bribery in the form of funny animal vids, different kinds of food, warm milk that had been sweetened with a sweetner that he had to extort all his black market connections to get onto an incoming resupply shipment. He tried brightly colored blocks (the only paints on base were red, yellow, black, white, and grey, but he tried) and softer blankets and a double sleeping mat to make the bunk a bit more comfortable. 

But nothing worked. Luke said thank you quietly, and tried to play and enjoy what he knew Cody had gotten for him, but his heart wasn’t in it anymore. He would stare sadly at the blocks for a long time, before climbing into Cody’s lap as CC-2224 tried to read another parenting help site. 

And then the Emperor came for his inspection, and everything went straight to hell. 

It started with the Emperor’s arrival. Luke was being instructed by one of the aides in how to properly hold a staff. CC-2224 was in the next salle over, keeping an eye on things as these nat-born upstarts (no training, very minimal discipline, absolutely useless) tried to make him yield. Suddenly, Luke froze and started straight up screaming. The aide stumbled back, stunned, and Cody rushed over to see what had happened. 

Luke wasn’t using words (he hadn’t been using words recently anyway, but Cody was trying), just screaming in absolute terror. He flinched when CC-2224 tried to reach for him, and Cody was hurt by his reaction. Luke had never, not once, not even when CC-2224 had his helmet and full armour on, flinched from him. He froze. The screaming continued. 

“Luke, you have to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me.” he said, using his patented I-am-very-calm-there’s-nothing-terrible-happening voice. He crouched down to Luke’s height, but very carefully did not crowd the screaming child. It didn’t work. There wasn’t any blood, no limbs out of place, nothing physically looked wrong. But obviously something was very, very wrong. “Luke” he said with the same calm tones, “I need you to calm down and tell me what’s happening. What’s got you so worked up?” 

The screams crescendoed, and Cody was absently wondering how such a tiny body could keep screaming for so long without apparently pausing for breath. 

“I’m afraid that would be me,” came the sibilant tones of the Emperor himself. CC-2224 straightened and saluted immediately, leaving Luke, still screaming his lungs out, on the floor. 

“Your Excellency.” 

The Emperor ignored him and focused on Luke. CC-2224 did not allow Cody’s abject alarm and displeasure to make even the slightest appearance, but he was going to feel that later. 

*** 

The Emperor of the known galaxy was not a being overly familiar with children. They were certainly not useful, except as leverage, but were easy enough to mold and direct and made into useful pawns. The toddler training to become an Inquisitor was a bit of an anomaly. 

Sidious had been slowly collecting force sensitive children, and having them trained as his enforcers and guardsmen and Hands since before the Clone Wars. He had a system for it. He had trainers who knew how to properly handle toddlers and teach them proper respect and obedience. Vader was kept unaware of these goings-on. Oh, he surely knew something, but not the depth and certainly not the breadth of the programs Sidious had in place. And so he had sent the child here, to the Fortress where the Jedi would be turned. 

Sidious was displeased by this. This was not a place to mold a Force sensitive child. The child could probably feel the darkness subsuming the pitiful lights of the Jedi. It probably pained him. And would leave the boy with a fundamental distrust and wariness of the Dark. Which Sidious could, of course, work with, but it was effort that he wished he did not have to expend. And now he would have to, because Vader had assigned the child here. 

And therein lay Sidious’ upset. Now, if he wanted this child as an Hand or other operative, Vader would discover his carefully hidden plots. Or some of them. Enough of them to start his own brand of heavy-handed investigation. And Sidious did not want that. The child could not be easily reassigned-Vader had monthly reports on his progress. With holos and vids and from multiple instructors. 

If Sidious wanted the child for himself-and he did, the boy was blindingly bright with potential-he would have to go about procuring said child slowly, and with extreme care. Slowly, he would have to have perfectly reasonable disappearances for those writing the reports on the child. He would then replace them with his own agents, and could begin the training he actually wanted the child to undergo. 

He had time. The child was still very young, and would still be malleable by the time Sidious could get a decent hold of him. And Sidious, as always, played the long game.


	4. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And they are getting out of there! or sort of. Cody's working on it.

“I see that my presence upsets you.”

If this was the Emperor’s attempt to sound friendly, he failed miserably. Not that anyone would tell him that. He was probably already aware. And probably revelled in how discomfited it made everyone. Or he would revel in it if he even cared about what all the ants around him were thinking. He didn’t. 

Luke’s screaming had tapered off into unnatural silence. The child was visibly frightened by the Emperor’s presence, but did not attempt to run. Rather he sat there, frozen in what may have been the closest he had ever known to actual horror. He was a toddler. Comprehension of the danger he was in was probably still a bit fuzzy, but Luke was clearly aware that he was in danger.

The Emperor knew it too. “I hear good things about your training.”

Luke made no response, either verbally or physically.

“I would very much like to see you become one of my faithful servants.”

CC-2224 knew that there was no way Luke grasped the full meaning of the Emperor’s words to him, much less the nuance, but Luke definitely picked up on the feeling behind the words.

This man wanted Luke. Luke did not like this man. Luke answered.

“No.”

CC-2224 swore the entire base stopped at the heavy cloud of...pressure that now crackled in their ears. Luke alone appeared completely unmoved, and for the first time in weeks, he had an actual interest in something. Unfortunately that something was defying the leader of the known galaxy, but Cody could wrangle that. If they made it out of this alive, that is.

The Emperor allowed his heavy displeasure to permeate the atmosphere for an indeterminate amount of time. Time was a construct that didn’t register as an active phenomenon anymore. Luke did not once look away or flinch, and his features stayed frozen in a terrified frown. CC-2224 recognized that his charge was about to get killed, but there was nothing he could do. The Emperor superseded all previous orders.

The entire training area was blanketed in oppressive silence, until the Emperor broke it. He started chuckling, and that may have been the most terrifying sound any being in that arena had ever heard, and would ever hear. “You have spirit. Commendable, but useless. Perhaps, when I return, you will better know your place. And if you do, perhaps I could be convinced to take an apprentice.” The Emperor left, his scarlet-robed guards fanning out around him. 

CC-2224 waited until the Emperor was safely gone (well, as safely gone as he could be while still being on the same plant and space sector), before grabbing Luke and taking the child far, far away from everyone.

He locked down their room as soon as they entered. Luke was still catatonic, and lay limp and pliant in CC-2224’s arms. CC-2224 could not fix this. He did not know how to mitigate this. There was no training for how to handle a traumatized empath who had just come into contact with distilled evil.

CC-2224 needed a-he needed his-... He needed one of those Traitors. He needed one to help his kid so he could complete this mission, and Luke could be happy and would smile again. But the Traitors were gone, his brothers were swallowed by the empire. He had no recourse, no backup, no allies. But he had Luke and a mission.

The first bit of life stirred in Luke’s small limbs when CC-2224 went to lay him on their bunk. His tiny fingers grasped tightly to the edge of CC-2224’s armour, and he made a low whimper. CC-2224 settled himself and the child on the bunk, shoved his despair (and grief and horror, and all those things that he could not think) into a shadowy corner of his mind, and he got to work.

This was a Very Bad situation. The Emperor mentioned training Luke, personally. That would be very detrimental to Luke’s health and continued well being-just look where it got Vader, and that guy hadn’t even been an apprentice for half a standard day (not including hyperspace travel time) before being violently mutilated.

The Emperor hadn’t given orders to CC-2224 though. So CC-2224’s original orders from Vader still stood. Which meant that the Emperor would not be getting Luke as an apprentice. Which meant CC-2224 was going to have to submit some very careful paperwork if he didn’t want to be hunted down. Administrative tasks were things he did because he had to, not because he felt any pleasure in doing them. That said, he knew his way around bureaucratic language and Intelligence reporting doublespeak.

So he filled out forms for a long term asset protection authorized by the Intelligence division. Well, he had filled them out a while ago. After he had carefully filled out forms for multiple IDs and multiple, untraceable lines of credit, ostensibly for Traitor hunting expeditions that he hadn’t been, and wouldn’t be on, but that no one could prove that he hadn’t been on, he simply resubmitted the paper work, carefully backdated where necessary. All purge troopers looked the same, and they didn’t socialize with anyone, not even each other, so that definitely worked in his favor.

But now, he filed those forms, requisitioned a ship (unmarked), a second set of armour, provisions for two for a month, and a medical pack. As soon as the Emperor was gone, so was Luke.

Except the Emperor took his time in leaving. Luke was inconsolable, either screaming or crying or whimpering, almost completely non-verbal. He couldn’t sleep, or he would exhaustedly fall asleep only to start awake and start whimpering again before getting actual rest.

CC-2224 was being driven spare. He could hear the exhausted sobs in his dreams, and the sad whimpers followed him everywhere. But he could do this. He just had to hold on until the Emperor left and then he and Luke could completely disappear. Just a little bit longer, he would murmur to Luke all night. Just a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's reading this, and thanks for all the kudos and comments! We're getting to fluff. Soon, I promise!


	5. Now What

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody is good at plans. Sadly, toddlers don't particularly care for plans.

They made it. The Emperor left, finally. CC-2224 and Luke boarded a shuttle, left, and then CC-2224 registered an engine anomaly and took his charge onto a junk freighter just before their shuttle exploded. They were free. Well, CC-2224 mused, free-ish. He still had reports for Lord Vader, and he still had to keep on eye on what intelligence was reporting, but they were no longer at that cursed Fortress, and Luke was soundly asleep (possibly unconscious) for the first time in weeks. 

Cody could cry, he was so relieved. He still had a long way to go, but now, now there was time and space and Luke could finally be introduced to things that children should know. He was going to carry out his mission, and the outlook looked so much better now. 

He was still going to have to figure out how to properly train a force-sensitive, was still going to have to find a place to settle, at least for a few months. Luke would probably need stability and routine. He would have to be able to have somewhere he could recognize as “safe”. Cody could do that for him. 

Cody did not have a destination in mind. It was safer to not have actual plans when a mind-raping sith was in the vicinity. He had planned how to get away, but not how to long term stay away. But he knew how to throw together a plan, and was putting all the rusty skills of herding a bunch of explosion-prone troopers and Traitors to good use. He needed a place with other children, proper pediatricians,outdoor space and a only semi-dangerous environment, and little imperial presence. Cody was also concerned because he was fairly sure the boy was too small and too light for his age group, and that he was malnourished or over stressed or both, and either would be a failure on CC-2224’s part. And Cody didn’t want that for his kid. 

Cody stopped at a bunch of spaceports, and sometimes switched ships, selling one and buying another, or stealing if necessary. Some spaceports were legitimate, some were small and out of the way, and some were hives of absolute anarchy. Cody always kept Luke in a carrier on his chest in those places, because 1.) Luke was everything buyers looked for in human slaves, and 2.) the kid had the uncanniest knack of finding trouble. 

For example, the last spaceport they were at, a place that was a bit below board, but had a decent veneer of legitimacy, Luke had made a grabby hands gesture at a munitions dealer. The idiot dealer had placed actual, live explosives in a toddler’s hands, because said toddler didn’t need words when he had the grabby hands and wide blue eyes. Cody had turned away for one minute to talk to the port authority. One. Minute! He was standing less than three meters away! And where did the dealer even come from?! Cody later, after a few more instances, became convinced that Luke used some kind of passive Force thing to make dangerous individuals appear and give Cody heart palpitations. 

And when he turns around, there is his kid with explosives in his tiny, little hands, right next to his tiny, fragile, little body. Right then and there, Cody nearly caused the spontaneous combustion of several nearby sentients. 

The dealer was patiently explaining how the explosive worked, and how to be careful with it, and how to prime it. Luke was actually interested, but Cody couldn’t be pleased about that right now. There were explosives. In the hands. Of his child. 

The dealer had taken one look and Cody’s (righteously) furious face, and made an hasty attempt to recover the explosive. Luke, with all the innocence that CC-2224 was beginning to suspect was a front, turned to face Cody and held the explosive out for inspection. 

“Goes Boom!” the child enthused. 

Cody was more enthusiastic about removing the explosive from his child’s immediate vicinity, but nonetheless wanted to encourage good behaviour. 

“Not here it doesn’t.” he growled, deftly removing the explosive and handing it back to the munitions dealer. “Nothing goes boom around you, that’s a new Rule. Nothing, got it?” Cody may have been addressing Luke, but his eyes never left the cowering munitions dealer. 

“I make Boom!” Luke argued. 

“Absolutely not!” 

“Please?” 

Cody was fairly sure that Luke didn’t properly understand what an explosion actually was, much less how to set one off and what it could do to people. But he would need to know that sort of thing in the future, and Cody could understand the benefits of a working knowledge of explosives. 

“Only from a very safe distance.” 

“Safe?” 

“Booms are Not Safe. But we can set them off from far away.” Cody explained as he prodded Luke to toddle towards a supply shop. The munitions dealer had disappeared. And he would stay that way, if he knew what was good for him. 

As they travelled, Luke had slowly started using words again, a bit before the Grabby Hands Incident. CC-2224 counted this as a victory. And Luke smiled at CC-2224 when the trooper had banged his head on the entryway to their newest acquired ship. 

“Ouch?” 

“Little ouch.” CC-2224 answered stoically. He was not giving the kid the idea that lying or covering pain was an acceptable course of action. The Je-Traitors had been overly prone to such things, and Cody was putting an end to that. 

“Look?” Luke asked, making the grabby hands gesture that made CC-2224 break out in hives. 

So yes, Cody, who would literally take on the seperatist army with his bare hands, now had a distinct fear of the grabby hands. But he lowered his head into Luke’s range anyway. Luke gently patted the spot. 

“Good?” 

“Yes. All better. Thank you.” Cody answered. That was how the books talked about dealing with minor pain. Cody thought it was nonsense, but hadn’t found an alternative that wouldn’t be damaging to his goal of Luke having a healthy relationship with medics and the sickbay. 

Luke was still not looking quite as healthy as Cody believed he should be. He was eating better now, and was getting some color from the suns on the planets they stopped at. Cody was making sure that they spent some time running around a park or at least outside a bit (once he was sure that the planet and its inhabitants were of little to no threat) because that was healthy for children. Also because it meant Luke would actually take a decently long nap, and Cody needed a break sometimes. But the boy still looked...shaky. Like he was getting better, but something was still wrong. Cody needed an actual medic. An actual, trustworthy medic. 

Cody did know that many of his vode had managed to get out and disappear once the Emperor’s orders against the Jetti traitors had faded. Or thought around. Or damaged. Or whatever. They believed they had betrayed their Generals and commanders, and that the current administration was at fault. They may have been right, but Cody had nowhere else to go. His general was dead. His brothers were dead. The Empire was all he had left. He knew that some of those who had left still used pulse code channels to communicate. And he knew that some of those that had left were medics. And so he started making inquiries. 

Eventually he heard back from a medic who had been in the 104th named Pause. Pause agreed to meet on the backwater planet of Riileb, in Hutt space. Pause met him when he landed, and looked a bit stunned at, well, everything when he came out. CC-2224 didn’t know if it was the purge trooper armour or the blonde haired child in his arms that was more surprising. 

Pause froze at the sight of a purge trooper appearing at the end of the loading ramp of the small cruiser. He had verified that his contact was actually a clone, and was fairly certain that any clones with active chips got shut out from their memories, and really only retained their skills. But maybe, if one of them had broken out of the chip’s control, and someone had caught them and turned them into a purge trooper, theoretically, that clone could access previous memories. And use them. 

Pause had a sudden cold feeling crawling up his spine. He wasn’t prepared for this, at all. And then, as he was contemplating escape plans, something in the purge troopers arms moved. A child. In the arms of a purge trooper? Pause was having difficulty comprehending the tableau in front of him. 

Cody carefully, one handedly (which was difficult) removed his helmet. Some seconds passed as the clone medic gawked. 

“C-C-Com...Cody?? What the hell?” Pause gestured at Cody’s everything. “I thought I was just removing your chip?!” 

Cody frowned. “What chip? No, I have a mission to complete. I need you to tell me if he’s healthy.” And here Cody held out the slightly less wan, but still sickly looking child to the other clone. Luke helpfully raised his head and gave a small wave. “Hi.” 

Pause looked at the somewhat dull eyes of the child. He pulled a skeptical face. “Uhhhhh, hello?” Luke brightened. Cody made a pleased nod. He had been trying to teach Luke proper greetings, but the Fortress’ type of greeting was a lightsaber to the back or a stun stick to the head. That did not help Luke with normal socialization. 

Pause turned to Cody. “I am very pointedly not asking where you got a child from and what you plan on doing with him. Come on, I’ve got a decently equipped med bay on my ship.” Luke perked up. “Ship?” he questioned. “Is big?” Luke made a wavy hand motion to the ship he had just left. “Ours big!” It was a rather large freighter. Much larger than the previous ships they had used. 

Pause had dealt with children on many of the evacuations he had been involved with, and didn’t hesitate to answer. “It’s bigger than yours, but not that big. Do you like ships?” 

Luke nodded his shaggy head with more enthusiasm than Cody had seen him demonstrate in a few weeks. “Color?” 

“Mostly grey.” 

“Like my towel?” Luke turned to Cody, who was so supremely relieved to be answering a question that was not either why or about something hazardous, he almost cried. 

“The towels are white. Your blanket on your bunk is grey.” Luke looked thoughtful. “I don’t like grey” he proclaimed, and shoved his thumb into his mouth to end the conversation. Cody made a mental note. Respecting your child's preferences, where possible, was important. 

Pause raised an eyebrow at Cody. Cody did not respond. He was too happy that Luke had taken an interest in something. He had been running out of things to tempt Luke’s interest rather quickly on the smaller craft he had chosen. The blocks from the fortress could only be of so much interest. Cody had been researching developmental aids and children’s...toys...for Luke. He would have to check this planet to see if they had anything that could be useful in entertaining Luke. 

Luke’s intense curiosity about everything was slowly returning, and Cody’s headaches were also slowly shifting from ‘something is wrong with my kid’s emotional development’ to ‘my kid’s about to get himself stuck in the maintenance hatch again’. While this pleased him greatly, it also meant that Luke’s previously unknown ability to nearly completely disappear had shown itself, and Cody had the greying hair to prove it. Nothing set off the alarm bells in his head like silence. He didn’t trust it. 

Cody set Luke down on the med table, and caught the back of his tunic before the boy could roll himself over the edge, which was the boy’s absolute favorite way of getting off anything above the ground. “Pause here is going to give you a scan and tell me how you’re doing, alright.” 

Luke, thumb still firmly in mouth, nodded. He carefully removed his thumb and turned to Pause. “I’m good.” 

Pause gave a smile. “I’m just going to check for Cody here.” Pause narrated everything he did during the scans and checks. He didn’t have all the available vaccinations Luke would need, but he had some of the more common ones. Luke did not like those, but could be easily distracted with candy, which was a trick Cody was definitely going to keep in mind. 

Pause handed the scan results to Cody as Luke gnawed on a sweet. “He’s a bit small for his age, and could probably do to gain a bit more weight, but he’s pretty healthy as is. Someone was beating him pretty badly, but there’s no lasting bone damage, and nothing’s broken, so at least there’s that. The electrical damage may leave him with a fine tremor, but you’d need a more specialized nerve map to diagnose the full extent of the damage.” Pause reported. 

Cody’s frown had steadily darkened through the report. He nodded. “Do you have any recommendations for where we could get a diagnosis for the nerve damage then?” 

“Most large clinics and hospitals will have the equipment to test that.” Pause continued, “He’s going to need a more varied diet though. Protein bars and nutritional broth are fine for adults, but at his age he still needs more easily digestible foods. Fresh fruit and vegetables, not overly processed meat, and puffed grains are all good ideas.” 

Cody nodded. That fit with what the books had said, but it was good to have confirmation from multiple sources that he was on the right track. “Alright. Come on Luke, we’ve got to go now.” The books said that narrating actions and involving the child in daily routines was important for building a good vocabulary and proper, innate understanding of grammar. CC-2224 just had to think of it as a report to a superior, and Cody was slowly getting used to the concept of always telling Luke what he was doing. It also, at least in the future, would help cut down on misunderstandings. 

Already, Luke would sometimes question his actions. He did so with an absolute abundance of “whys” but it was something. And apparently the why stage was normal. Cody just had to keep reminding himself that it would have to end eventually. 

Luke rolled off the bed, was caught by Pause and placed on the ground. He wobbled over to Cody’s knees. “Bye?” he questioned. 

“Yes, say goodbye to Pause now.” 

Luke turned to the stymied clone medic. “Bye!”, he waved. 

Cody took Luke’s hand and began the walk back to his ship. Pause recovered himself. “I don’t have any idea what you’re doing, but if you need me, here’s my comm code. Uhhhhhh, take care of yourself, sir.” 

Cody took the code, and nodded. “You too”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the comments and kudos! They really make my day! And look, you even get a pretty early update in thanks.


	6. Interlude: Obi-Wan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While Cody is struggling with the presence of a kid, Obi-Wan is struggling with the absence of one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No Cody and Luke in this chapter, we get to see what Obi-Wan's been up to. Basically, he's having a rough time.

Obi-Wan had felt Luke’s force presence react violently to something, but arrived too late to do anything about it. By the time his speeder pulled up to the Lars homestead, all that was left were two of Jabba’s mercs looting the place. The Lars, and Luke, were gone. 

Obi-Wan was not completely unaware of how Jabba operated his slave trade. He knew that most slaves taken for “tax” purposes were sold off-planet, especially ones that had been freeborn, as they generally had other family members or friends who would purchase them and even Jabba knew that that kind of outright resentment and simmering rage was bad for his profits. So the Lars’ would most likely be taken off planet and sold into a different Hutt’s collection of people. 

Obi-Wan wasted no time in getting to Mos Eisley and trying to find which transport the Lars’ had been taken on. He could feel Luke’s Force presence, scared, upset, and uncomfortable, but the feeling was diffuse because of Luke’s age. He was simply projecting everywhere, and giving Obi-Wan a massive headache trying to deal with all his unhappiness. How ever had the creche masters managed? Apparently he had never given them enough credit. 

He searched the spaceport, looking for freighters, and was again too late. He saw a freighter three bays down from him take off, and knew, just knew, that Anakin Skywalker’s child had just left the planet. 

With no time to contemplate his failure (another Skywalker lost! Maybe it’s a good thing Bail took the other one, goodness knows that Obi-Wan had only ever failed the Skywalker line), he found himself a suitable mark. Mark in this sense being a second rate bounty hunter with an alright ship that Obi-Wan was going to be borrowing indefinitely. He didn’t even feel that bad about it. 

The slave transport had completely disappeared. Obi-Wan was stuck at Nar Shadaa where he was assured that the transport had been going, and had arrived to discover that the transport in question had not actually gone there. The former general spent far too long plying information out of brokers and port authorities only to discover that the transport had been raided by pirates. 

The pirates, Obi-Wan discovered, were somewhat annoyed to have stolen live cargo instead of spice, and promptly changed course to sell their new wares in Zygerria. In Zygerria, a Hutt agent had purchased the lot, and was en route to Nal Hutta when he was captured by an Imperial search. The trail went dead there, at least from what Obi-Wan could learn from spacers. He would have to go to the Imperials for more information. 

He very much did not want to go to the Imperials for information. Many of them had been a part of the Republic’s forces as either officers, or intelligence, or accountants, or whatever positions the clones weren’t being used to do. And Obi-Wan’s face had been all over the news holos, and he hadn’t changed all that much. So dealing with Imperials was rather low on the list of things he wanted to do. But it would probably be the fastest way to discover where Luke had ended up. 

The list of places the Empire placed “freed” slaves was rather short. These people were most often sent to “rehabilitation camps, '' that even Obi-Wan didn’t need the Force to tell him were probably just labor camps. It was highly unlikely that slaves were actually sent to sanctuaries and refugee centers on planets that hosted such things. He assumed that the kids were taken elsewhere, or used as collateral to ensure their parents’ cooperation. 

Luke was too young to be sent to a labor camp, but Owen and Beru were not. It was quite possible they had been sent one. He could start there. To start, he would need to find a small Imperial outpost, infiltrate it, and copy access codes and data transfer authorization codes. He needed somewhere small, rather out of the way, but still important enough to have access to Imperial data bases. 

Obi-Wan was suddenly regretting being out of touch with the galaxy and it’s underbelly. If he had kept up with things, it would have been much easier to find out the information that had already taken him the better part of two months to gather. Two months that Luke was missing, captured by slavers, and probably scared and upset. Conditions like that tended to trigger latent force abilities, and there was no scenario in which that happen played out well. Force-sensitives were worth a literal fortune on any slave market, and probably more in may rings. And Obi-Wan could only guess that the Empire would be attempting to kill or capture any Force-Sensitive children. Capture would be the worst case, Obi-Wan figured, and dearly hoped that that was not Luke’s fate. But first he had to see if there were any records whatsoever of Luke and his guardians. 

The Imperial data organization and retrieval system was set up exactly like the Republic’s, and if Obi-Wan was lucky, he could exploit some of the weaknesses he had used before while on campaign and out of range of a decent connection. He wouldn’t even have to use his access codes or permissions. He had Cody’s memorized. Assuming Cody was still with the Empire (and Obi-Wan had no reason to believe otherwise), and despite how painful that was, it could be helpful here. He spared a quick thought to hope that his digging wouldn’t get Cody in trouble. Part of him, a small, bitter part, reminded him that the person he knew as Cody no longer existed, and Obi-Wan really had no reason to care what happened to that being now. So Obi-Wan took a trip to a small mining operation on a small, nowhere moon in the Arkanis sector, waltzed onto a not terribly well secured Imperial base, and sauntered back out with the proper data requisition permissions. All in all, it was depressingly straightforward, and no one shot at him. He was very nearly disappointed. 

Finding information about Imperial re-homing or refugee placement was surprisingly harder than anticipated. The files were locked down tighter than Obi-Wan would have expected, and most personal information was completely blank. All Obi-Wan could reliably find were numbers. He hadn’t had to do research like this for quite some time, but once he started, it wasn’t all that hard to remember how to properly categorize and mark the information he needed. 

He sorted through all families with one child, and found nothing. From there he assumed that Luke had somehow been separated from either Owen or Beru, and tried to look for a child with one parent. This search had a few dozen results that fit his criteria. Digging deeper into the identities of the marked files took hours for each candidate. One by one, they were all eliminated. So he was forced to just look for Luke. 

It still took too long to find all the files on blonde-haired, blue-eyed human males under three years of age that currently resided in the Empire’s care. It wasn’t until he noticed a file fitting that description that was marked with a slightly different symbol that he felt the first stirrings of dread. He was informed that he did not have clearance for that file, but such trivialities had never really bothered Obi-Wan before, and they were not about to start now. 

The first cover file he sliced into had practically no information. Physical identifiers, an Ident number, a processing number, and an intake location. The intake location matched what Obi-Wan had heard and discovered from the slavers, pirated, and brokers previously, so that was promising. The only location listed for the intake was *********. Which was decidedly unhelpful. So Obi- Wan went searching for the modified symbol on the corner of the file. 

Finding that specific symbol was an absolute nightmare. Obi-Wan was no professional slicer, and to get into the kind of files he was going to need, he was going to need one. Unfortunately for him, finding a professional slicer was not something he could just do. The bounties out on surviving Jedi were far more than he could ever afford to top to ensure the slicer’s silence. He was going to have to get Bail involved, and he very much did not want to. But, as was apparently his lot in life, he very rarely got to do what he wanted to do. He contacted Bail. 

“Ben? How are things? I was not expecting a call from you.” Bail greeted in careful politician’s double talk. 

Obi-wan, while generally one for pleasantries and polite conversation, had been looking for Luke Skywalker for upwards of six months now. He was exhausted, irritated, and frustrated, so he cut right to the chase. 

“Bail, I’m sorry to call so unexpectedly, but my nephew has gone missing. Following his trail requires skill I do not possess, and I was wondering if you knew of anyone who could be of assistance.” 

Bail’s expression, while still looking somewhat polite, froze, and Obi-Wan could see the worry in his eyes. “Send me what you have so far, and I’ll see what can be done.” Bail gave Obi-Wan an encrypted comm code, and Obi-Wan sent the proper acceptance permissions. Safety measures observed, Obi-Wan sent the data he had so far, as well as all his annotations. Bail gave the files a cursory glance, his expression turning grave. “This may take a bit of time, my friend. Get some rest, and stay safe.” Bail recommended, signing off. 

Obi-Wan sighed, deeply. He felt somewhat hopeless now. There really wasn’t much left for him if Luke was lost to the Empire. He shook his head firmly. Luke wasn’t lost to the empire- not yet. There was hope. 

Bail’s people and the burgeoning resistance would help. He would get the information he needed, and he would go get Luke. That was all there was to it. Failure in this would wreck him completely, and he did not know if it was something he could recover from. He had lost so much already. He did not think he could accept another loss. 

With another, less heavy, sigh, he settled down to meditate through the pain this entire series of events had brought up. Meditation. Tea. Food. Sleep. Afterwards he could catch up on Imperial gossip and get an ear to the ground again. He was without the resources he had previously had, but he was not without his own considerable skill set. He could still be useful while awaiting Bail’s results. 

It took two more months for Bail to contact him again. Bail’s face was grave and shadowed. “I’m sorry” he said quietly, as he transmitted the files. “It seems we were too late.” 

Obi-Wan’s entire body felt cold.He got into the file, and the more he read, the deeper his dread became. Vader had found Luke. Vader had found Luke, and sent him off to be trained as a dark side user. Vader had found Luke, sent him to be trained, and Luke had been killed in some sort of ship malfunction less than two weeks ago. 

“But you did bring this project to our attention.” Bail continued, hoping to soften the blow with a bit of brighter news. “The Empire was taking friends of yours that had been captured, and torturing them until they Fell. We have a strike team assembled. We will be getting some of them out, Ben. And now we know what to look for, and we never would have otherwise.” 

Obi-Wan nodded mechanically. “Thank you Bail.” 

“Stay safe, old friend,” Bail said, signing off. 

Obi-Wan leaned back and away from the screen. He would have thought that he would have felt Luke’s death. They may not have had a formal bond, but he should have felt it. He would have. So why hadn’t he? Was he just being delusional in his grief? He didn’t think so. 

Even if he was, he didn’t have much left to lose. He might as well keep investigating. Even if it couldn’t help Luke, maybe it could help someone else, and maybe that could help fill the gaping hole in his heart. Maybe, maybe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And agin, thank you for all the kudos and comments! They really make my day, and I'm very glad that you all are enjoying this.


	7. Parenting 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody has a vague plan, and Luke has no plans but chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Cody and Luke!

Before even attempting to find somewhere to settle, Cody and Luke bought or stole seven different ships to confuse any followers. Cody had withdrawn a decent amount from one of the black ops funds that Intelligence purposefully did not look at, and had placed it in a few different banks across the outer rim territories. He couldn’t really set up safe houses at this point, but he had a few planets marked out, and a few places to hide or obtain various types of ships. Some of which were the ones he had stolen, but was not like their previous owners would be needing them anymore. 

Luke absolutely loved exploring each new ship, and absolutely adored the menace of a hover droid he had discovered on some smuggler’s ship that Cody had stolen. Unfortunately for Cody, the hover droid also adored Luke, and was teaching the child binary. Which was nice that Luke was already learning another language, but Cody didn’t speak binary, and Luke would mash the two languages together to make some unholy noise that Cody couldn’t decipher. Thus was born the “No binary when not talking to droids rule”. The parenting books said that clearly defined rules and expectations were important for children of all ages. 

After another three months of laying false trails, stealing ships, and setting up hiding places,and, most annoyingly, dragging Luke away from the sketchy spaceport inhabitants that wanted to forcibly adopt his child, Cody had found a nice, semi-remote farm, on a nice backwater planet and had settled down with Luke. Well, settled was a relative term. Luke, away from the miasma of the Fortress, had bounced back with a vengeance. He was forever running underfoot, climbing overhead and disappearing into goodness knows what and coming back covered with scratches and debris and mud and smiling like he had just won the best thing ever. 

He would dangle from the hover droid, whose designation was completely impossible to read and Luke had named Hi, and this gave Cody heart palpitations because there was no height limit on that droid! And Luke couldn’t hang on forever! And there was no way Cody could catch him! 

Once Luke had safely returned to the ground Cody set strict guidelines about how high Luke could go. The droid seemed to understand that if Luke got dropped, Cody would have no problem scrapping the damn thing. That did not stop Luke and Hi from zooming all over the place though. Cody could not wait until Like got too big for Hi’s repulsors to adequately lift the boy. 

Now, CC-2224 faced yet another hurdle in making his kid healthy. Dinner. CC-2224 had never needed to do more than learn how to heat ration packs, and that did not translate to...whatever was in front of him. 

He consulted the instructions in front of him, and glared at the heating element. The forums claimed that this was a fast, easy, and most importantly, likable dish for most human children. Unfortunately, it also anticipated that the maker of the dish knew what it meant for the grains to be fully cooked. And when to drain them? And how to mix in protein cubes and vegetables with a sauce. 

Cody had closely followed all the instructions, and his meal looked nothing like the one pictured. He tasted it. Cody thought it was edible, but he had learned at a young age to eat whatever was put in front of him. Luke, already, was pickier, and showed a definite dislike of anything too charred. Or too spicy? Or a specific yellow nutrient mash that made him actually cry. And throw the yellow mash all over the interior of the smaller shuttle Cody had packed them in. With the Force, which was alarming. Cody had hoped that Luke might like the bright color of the food, and felt vaguely disheartened at the vigor with which Luke loathed the stuff. 

Cody didn’t really know which descriptor went with which taste, which was also a problem when searching for recipes he could make for a child. Children could apparently taste bitterness better than adults, and thus had a near universal dislike of certain vegetables, drinks, and types of fruits. Unfortunately for Cody, he had no idea what bitterness was, and just hoped that whatever he made did not have the bitter flavor. 

He placed a dish in front of Luke, and breathed a sigh of relief when the boy ate without complaint. As long as Luke ate it, it was good enough. 

While settling into a farm, CC-2224 had taken to narrating the dry farming texts to him, mostly because children’s stories were weird and unrealistic and gave Cody hives to think about. He had read that reading to your child before bed helped improve a child’s reading comprehension, and encouraged healthy learning habits. So he had taken a pad, set it back to factory default, and went looking for children’s literature. 

He was not terribly pleased with what was offered. Educational texts were helpful, and Cody had no problem reading to Luke about counting or the alphabet or plant identification or about animals or ships or planets or sentients. No, Cody had problems with children’s stories. 

Some stories were alright, but the ones with the friendly dragons and the happy loth-wolves and the smiling tentacled things would give Luke ideas. Luke did not need those ideas (Cody had seen him attempting to befriend a caged akkul on Lothal), and needed to be aware that those things could and would hurt him. So Cody read watered down myths from Corellia and Naboo and Aldaraan and Tatooine and Ryloth and Mandalore. 

And agricultural texts. Because, for some inexplicable reason, Luke actually liked them. Soon Luke could spout off a litany of dense agricultural language without understanding what a word of it meant. Cody thought it was kind of cute to hear the kid tell him all about how some grains needed to be flooded during a rainy season to grow, and how the chemistry of the water at different altitudes lead to different flavors in the grains grown. 

Cody had used their ID’s to get Luke into a clinic to have his nerve damage mapped and to see if there was anything he could do about it. The doctor had looked at the maps and said the damage was pretty minimal, all things considered, and would probably correct itself as the child grew. This was great news to Cody, and Luke was happy to be bribed with a sweet, so all was well. 

Now Cody had to look into socialization for Luke. The parenting forums suggested places like daycare, or half day programs for younger children. Cody investigated the local daycares, and found one that had a decent curriculum and a very high security rating. 

So, twice a week, Cody dropped Luke off at the child care center (thoroughly vetted, with approaches, defensible positions, and easy egress points all carefully considered, of course) for socialization. They also started teaching the alphabet and counting and reading, all of which Cody was grateful for because he had been flash trained, and actual instruction in how to read was not his fortè. 

The first day of class for Luke was stressful for everyone involved. Mostly Cody, but he was 50% of those involved, and Luke could pick up on his feelings, and it was a vicious cycle. Cody re-read the first day requirements- ID, allergen alerts, health problems, paperwork for emergency contacts, ect.) and carefully pulled Luke’s obnoxiously orange shirt over his head. Luke loved that shirt, probably because of it’s eye-searing shade, but it did make Luke easier to find, so Cody would pick his battles. “Alright. You’re going to class, and you’re going to meet some new kids, and go make friends today, alright?” Cody had no idea what went on at these places, but that should happen right? All his friends were made in classes. 

Luke beamed. “I like friends!” 

That was probably all the confirmation Cody was going to get on the matter, and he shoved his anxiety at leaving the kid in non-imperial certified care down into a tiny box in the corner of his mind. Though the last imperial certified care he had left Luke in had damaged the child, so this would have to be better. Luke would be fine. He would be fine, and happy, and socializing with younglings his own age. It was going to be FINE. 

Luke loved speeder rides, and was overly excited as he all but bounced into the reception area for the care center. “Hi! He waved at the receptionist. 

The receptionist smiled and leaned over the desk to look at Luke. “Hello there, I think you must be new here. I’m Faran, and who might you be?” 

Luke, never one to be bashful or shy, just beamed. “Luke!” The boy bounced back to Cody. “And Cody!” he introduced. 

“Ahhh, yes, Luke, here’s your registration. And, Cody, was it? I just need you to sign this and take this.” The receptionist handed over a code cylinder, and clipped the code chip to the back of Luke’s shirt. “Alright, I’ve called the attendant, and he’ll lead you to your class. You’ll have to say goodbye to Cody for now.” 

Luke’s eyes suddenly dimmed a bit. “Not stay?” 

“I’ll be back after midmeal to get you. Besides, it’s hard to make friends with me hanging around, I’ve been reliably informed.” 

“Is not!” Luke argued fiercely. 

“Well, maybe they were wrong, but I think you need to do this one all on your own, alright.” Luke still looked like he was contemplating a dash back to the speeder, his expression mutinous. “You just have to try it. If you don’t like the people here, you won’t have to come back. I promise.” Cody assured him, leaning down so that they were at a similar height. 

“No sticks?” Luke asked quietly. 

Sticks? Why would Luke be worried about...oh. OH. “Oh, no Luke, nothing like that. That will not be happening again.” 

Luke nodded hesitantly. Cody led the now-reluctant child over to the waiting attendant. Luke made a face but took his hand. 

Cody bit back a sigh. He hadn’t realized that Luke remembered the Fortress all that well. That was a sign that Luke was internalizing his trauma, which he was definitely too young to be doing, and Cody was going to have to find (and clear, and swear to absolute secrecy) a child psychologist to deal with this. 

Another parent had entered, and sent her child running off after Luke and the attendant. “First time?” she asked sympathetically. 

Cody froze. “Uhhhhh, yes.” he answered shortly. 

The receptionist handed over a code cylinder to the other parent, and went on explaining the rules to Cody. Not that Cody hadn’t already read through them thoroughly, and had also vetted the place and its security. 

“If you lose the cylinder, you cannot pick up the child without multiple security checks and the local Guard will be called to verify all records.” The receptionist, Faran, was saying. Cody nodded. “Alright.” 

Faran gave a polite smile. “Luke will be fine. He actually handled this pretty well. I’ve seen a good number of younglings have full tantrums when their parents leave.” 

Cody gave a brittle smile in return. His face did not often make that gesture, even for Luke. “He’s not prone to tantrums yet.” 

Faran nodded, and looked a bit skeptical. “If you have any questions or concerns, here’s the comm number.” 

Cody took the number and left. He had a limited amount of time, and a lot of groundwork to begin laying. 

He started by talking to other farmers who had come into town. Gossip was always the best way to get somewhat reliable news, especially in a city without a spaceport. And Cody would need to have an idea of what was going on so he could plan things out. 

The city was small, and the nearest spaceport was in the other hemisphere. There was a rather paltry black market for goods, but an absolutely thriving one for gossip. Cody couldn’t gossip well, but he did know how to turn gossip into actionable information, and that was his goal here. 

************** Meanwhile, elsewhere (and when, technically) in the galaxy, 

It had taken Pause about two more years to wander into the Rebellion. He was sitting with some other escaped brothers and morosely reminiscing about Before when Cody’s name came up. “Oh, Cody’s out. Kind of, I think. He’s got a kid? And was apparently a purge trooper? I didn’t ask too many questions.” 

His brothers looked at him like he was crazy. “Cody’s alive, a purge trooper, and has a kid? What?” 

Pause shrugged, and took another sip of alcohol. “I don’t think the kid’s his. Too blonde for that. He said something about a mission, but again, I didn’t ask questions.” 

“You know, I heard that Rex made it out too. Someone should tell him.” 

Pause nodded. “He’s on a parenting site with his rank and number as his username if someone wants to tell Rex.” 

His brother choked. “Commander Cody is on a parenting chat board.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, all the comments, kudos and bookmarks make me so happy inside. Thanks for reading!


	8. Luke May be a Chaos Entity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cody is learning that Luke's upbringing is going to be very different from his own

Cody alternated teaching and engaging projects with Luke the rest of the week. And physical training, though he was very careful not to do anything like what the trainers at the Fortress had done. Luke still had nightmares about them. Or Cody assumed it was about them. Luke was surprisingly recalcitrant about his problems, and didn’t like to talk about them. The forums he was on had so many ideas for small projects and crafts that were utterly useless. Why would Luke need a necklace of dried and painted starches? The best reasoning behind such endeavors that Cody could come up with was to learn and reinforce fine motor skills. But Cody figured that allowing Luke to “help” repair machinery around the farm would have to do. 

Or. Cody thought balefully, it was a way to give the chaotic, paint-loving energies of a youngling an acceptable outlet. Cody looked calmly at the now very brightly painted flooring and walls of the dining area. There were paint splatters everywhere, and on everything, and Luke himself was an alarming shade of pink and yellow. The neon colors seared Cody’s retinas, and he was pretty sure there was somehow glitter involved. Which, how had Luke gotten glitter? And paint for that matter? Cody hypothesized that the grabby hands were at fault again. This never would have happened on Kamino, he was sure. 

“Luke” he said, with fake calm, “What happened here?” 

“Paint! Look! There’s me, and there’s you, and there’s Hi, and there’s the sun, and thats a pancake, and thats a flower, and thats a cat and thats our ship, and thats our speeder!” 

“Luke, you know that artwork goes on flimsi, not on the floor. Or the walls, or on you.” Seeing the now neon blue hover droid, he added, “Or on Hi, or on me.” Another glance around, “Or on anything that’s not flimsi. Now you’re going to have to help me clean all this.” 

Luke frowned, but didn’t argue. “Why?” 

“Because it’s better to get it off now than to have it peel away.” 

"Why?" 

"We do not want peeling paint clogging up the air filter systems. Or getting into our food. Now let's clean this up." Cody had learned how to forestall the why's. He applied the tactic liberally. 

“Fine.” Luke said shortly, stomping off. 

“Get the soap from the cleaning cabinet, Luke!” Cody sighed looking over the fantastically colored mess. He was going to have to find better outlets for Luke’s chaotic energy. 

The care center representative did mention that they had full week programs when Cody came late to pick up Luke one day. Cody politely turned them down. It wasn’t like the city school was going to teach the kid how to slice into Imperial databases or properly fire a blaster rifle, now was it? Not that they would be doing that until Luke was at least eight standard years. The books were very clear about putting too much pressure on children as they were developing. 

As much as Cody would appreciate their handling of Luke’s creative chaos, and the time it gave him to do some local news gathering and get some intel from what was happening in the Empire, he really didn’t want Luke learning everything the care center was teaching. Most of it, such as the reading and arithmetic and identification skills was useful. Socialization and interpersonal skills were useful. Flimsy glued together crafts and glittery...creations were not helpful. Their only use was in curbing Luke’s artistic tendencies around the farm. If they even did that. Cody privately thought that there would be less paint related incidents if the school hadn’t introduced Luke to the concept. 

So Cody invested in increasingly complex holo puzzles, and elaborate hunt-and-find games for Luke. This would begin to teach Luke how to think when hunting a quarry, and additionally, tire him out, especially since it was Cody setting the prize, usually a sweet, or a new piece of some garishly colored clothing, and he wanted Luke occupied. 

Cody wrote his reports and sent them directly to Lord Vader, outside of Imperial channels, of course. He didn’t know if Lord Vader read them, or even whether they were actually received, but he did send them, and that was more than enough for CC-2224’s sensibilities. 

He had also begun trying to teach Luke to meditate. Luke was definitely Force sensitive (the Yellow Mash Incident came to mind), and would probably need actual training in the future-which Cody was already planning for- but for now, meditation would have to do. 

The Jetti General-he never could bring up the name properly without an absolutely brutal headache and a nosebleed- had meditated a fair bit, and had taught Cody the basics. Unfortunately, teaching a clone Commander to order his thoughts and realign his focus did not have many similarities with teaching an inquisitive, overactive toddler with chaotic tendencies. 

“We’re going to sit down and count our breathing, alright, Luke?” Cody told him one morning after the breakfast plates had been cleared away. Luke plopped himself onto a cushion and mimicked Cody’s posture. 

“Now close your eyes…” Cody remembered the Jetti General guiding him in meditation the few times they had been able to find enough time to do so. “...And breathe in. You want to feel the air moving in your body, where it goes, how it feels.” 

Cody had modified the script a bit. Luke didn’t know what lungs were yet, and a litany of whys was not conducive to meditation. Luke lasted ten whole minutes before rolling onto Cody’s lap. “Stretchies?” he questioned. Cody shrugged. Ten minutes was better than none. He had time to work on these skills, and honestly, ten minutes was better than he had originally hoped for. Though maybe he should investigate some of the fringe religious orders he had heard about. Some of them might know how to meditate better. Or at least be able to better teach Luke how to do so. Preferably before Luke started showcasing his latent Force abilities in public. Cody had never outright caught him, but he was pretty sure Luke could levitate small objects to himself. But Cody didn’t want to bring attention to it if Luke was using these skills without meaning to. 

“Alright. Stretches.” Every morning, the two of them did “stretches” which was what Cody called the very gentle kata he had been teaching to Luke. It was nothing like the harsh movements and rigidized forms that the child had been learning at the Fortress, and Luke actually seemed to enjoy doing it. Cody was slowly integrating more and more poses and steps into it, but it definitely worked for now. Mostly, he thought as he caught Luke by the back of his shirt before the child could pitch headfirst into the floor. It mostly worked. “Please keep both feet on the cushion if you’re going to be stretching on top of it. That way you can keep your balance and not fall over.” 

“Alright!” Luke chirped from where he now hung, upside down, from Cody’s forearm. 

Cody persevered with the meditation. Luke was eager to please, and if it pleased Cody to have him sit for twenty minutes and focus on breathing, then he would certainly try. They would meditate once after breakfast, and once before bed, and Cody didn’t have any idea if he was doing it right, but he didn’t think he was doing it wrong, and Luke was handling it alright, so hopefully it would work. 

Luke had started going through a naked phase. It had the unfortunate timing to coincide with his “no” phase. Cody didn’t properly care; there was no one around, very little in terms of rough terrain, and he and Luke had nowhere important to be, but societal norms said that clothes had to be worn. And Luke had school today. They had meditated after breakfast, and Cody was attempting to convince Luke that a shirt and pants were necessary. 

Luke was of course having none of that. “No!” 

“Luke, please, you need to wear clothes to school, or they’ll send you back home.” 

Luke contemplated this for a moment. He then turned around and walked down the hallway, toward the door. “No!” 

“Yes they will Luke!” Cody replied as he hastily followed his naked child toward the hangar where they stored the speeder. “And you know the rules for the speeder; you have to wear your protective gear, and you need clothes on to do that or it’ll hurt your skin.” 

Luke made a disgruntled noise as he rolled off the speeder. Cody caught him and deftly slipped his clothes onto the flailing limbs before Luke could change his mind again. Drop-off went smoothly, and Luke was happily babbling to some of the other younglings when Cody left. 

When Cody arrived to pick Luke up there was tittering. Cody had a sudden sinking feeling about what the fuss was about. As he approached the pick up room, he saw that he was unfortunately correct. Luke was standing there, covered in paint and absolutely nothing else. Because of course he was. 

Cody sighed. Luke’s teacher gave a commiserating smile as she handed Luke’s clothes over. Cody released the chip from his child’s clothes, and winced as Luke plastered his paint-covered body all over Cody’s clean clothes. “Come on Luke. Clothes on if you want to ride on the speeder to get home.” 

Luke shoved himself haphazardly into his clothes-pants backwards, shirt inside out, shoes on the wrong feet, but Cody was picking his battles. And there was no way he was picking this one. “Alright. Home we go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks for all the comments and kudos! This chapter is mostly fluff, but we have plot coming in the next bit, so stay tuned!

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a cute/funny, somewhat cracky one shot. Obviously that did not happen. Chapters will be posted approximately every two weeks. 
> 
> Also, this is completely unbeta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.


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